


Up to the Highest Height

by NeverlandPixie



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23957995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverlandPixie/pseuds/NeverlandPixie
Summary: Eliot chases after Quentin and catches him halfway up the stairs. Gently grabbing his wrist, he makes him stop. “Q, please. It’s been days and you haven’t even attempted any sort of spell, but broken shit is your speciality, if you just-““I don’t believe in magic anymore, Eliot. Not like before.” Eliot doesn’t register the fact that he had let go of Quentin’s wrist until the other man is already at the top of the staircase.Because that. That breaks Eliot more than anything else he could have said.
Relationships: Fen/Margo Hanson/Josh Hoberman, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 4
Kudos: 90





	Up to the Highest Height

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a happy ending, I promise.

Day One 

The very first day consists mostly of tears. Happy, sad, angry tears. 

None of them come from Quentin. 

Eliot doesn’t approach him except to hug him once, which Quentin returns, but it feels almost like an obligation. 

Quentin takes a shower, eats, and sleeps for fifteen hours. 

Day Three

Eliot watches Julia watch Quentin. She’s unsure in her actions, takes longer pauses when she talks to him. He nods every once in a while in response to things she says, but never really gives a verbal reply aside an occasional “yes” or “no”. Eliot thinks that maybe Julia is talking at him, not to him, and his heart hurts for her in a way, because she had been the one who fought hardest to bring him back. The second she got her magic back, the only thing on her mind was also getting her best friend back. 

And they got him back. 

But maybe they didn’t get all of him. 

Day Seven

Eliot sits with Margo, who’s catching him up on New Fillory and the fact that she, Fen, and Josh are all dating now. It came as a shock, but at the same time he expected it, in a way. “How’s our boy doing?” She questions, eyeing him in a familiar way. He’s seen the look in her eyes far too often. And he’s lied to that look more times than he can count.

But not lately, and definitely not today. “I don’t know, Bambi. He’s alive, but it’s almost like he’s a shell. He’s here but..he’s somewhere else.” 

Margo hums and glances over to where Quentin is standing by the kitchen counter, watching as Alice talks to him. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. He looks zoned out. Like a goddamn zombie.” 

Eliot chuckles dryly. “Isn’t he technically?”

Margo moves her gaze back to him. “El, it’s gonna take time.” She reaches out to grip his hand, and he clutches onto hers like a lifeline. “For us, it was four months. Who knows how long it was for him?” 

He doesn’t want to think about that. Doesn’t want to think about how abandoned he must have felt. Or for how long. “What should I do?”

Margo sighs. “Maybe find activities that could take his mind off things. Distract him until he’s ready to face what he’s feeling.” She looks at him guiltily. “El, honey, you know I-“ 

Eliot gives her a small smile. “It’s okay, Bambi. Go lead your people.” 

When she leaves, she kisses Quentin’s forehead on her way. He only blinks in response. 

_Well_ , Eliot thinks ironically, _zombies definitely don’t blink._

Day Eleven

After another failed conversation with Quentin, Alice begins to avoid him. It’s not hard, really. He doesn’t move a lot, only leaving the couch to bathe and eat. 

That night, Alice bumps into him on the way to bed. “Oh. Hi, El.”

“Hi,” She won’t meet his eyes and that worries him on some level. “Stupid question, but are you okay?” He reaches out to place a hand on her arm but she backs away. 

“I think he hates us.” 

_No, not us. Probably just me,_ he thinks. He doesn’t dare say it out loud, though. 

“Alice-“

“Maybe we shouldn’t have brought him back at all.” 

That opens up a rage he didn’t know he had. “What the fuck does that mean?”

She meets his eyes now, her gaze sharp behind her glasses. “He’s miserable, clearly. Julia shouldn't have fucking-“

“Don’t put this on her, don’t you dare.”

She scowls at him. “Look at him, Eliot! He’s not even a person anymore! And have you seen him perform magic? Because I sure haven’t. Who knows if he even can anymore? His death was horrendous for me, I wanted to bring him back more than anybody. More than Julia. More than you. But I got closure. I got to say goodbye, so did you, so did Julia. Maybe he was meant to stay dead.” She pushes past him and into Kady’s room. 

He storms down the stairs as soon as the door clicks shut and leaves the penthouse. 

He needs a goddamn drink. 

Day Thirteen 

Eliot breathes in deeply as he walks over to sit next to Quentin. “Hey, Q.” He hands him a copy of the first Fillory and Further book. “I thought maybe you’d-“

“The funeral you arranged for me was nice.” 

Eliot blinks at him. “What?”

“I was there. At the bonfire. Penny forty let me watch. It was nice. Thanks for that.” He stands off the couch and heads to Julia’s room, leaving the book behind. 

Eliot wants to cry, but he forces himself not to. 

* * *

He doesn’t leave Julia’s room for three hours, but it’s clear that the two of them are having an actual, real discussion. 

And Eliot can’t help but resent Julia for it. It passes quickly, fading into jealousy, and eventually sadness. 

When he leaves Julia’s room, it’s clear they've both been crying. Quentin gives Julia a quick, two second hug and then leaves the penthouse for the first time since they brought him back. 

Julia gives him a look he can’t decipher, but he knows it’s not a bad thing. 

He hopes it’s not. 

Day Sixteen

One afternoon, while he, Fen, and Margo are visiting, Josh purposefully drops and breaks a mug. The room goes so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Margo glances between Quentin and Josh, giving her boyfriend the slightest glare. “Q, maybe you-“ 

He walks out the room before Josh can ask what they all know he knows wants too. Julia interrupts the awkward silence, her voice quiet. “..I’ll get a broom.”

Eliot chases after Quentin and catches him halfway up the stairs. Gently grabbing his wrist, he makes him stop. “Q, please. It’s been days and you haven’t even attempted any sort of spell, but broken shit is your speciality, if you just-“

“I don’t believe in magic anymore, Eliot. Not like before.” Eliot doesn’t register the fact that he had let go of Quentin’s wrist until the other man is already at the top of the staircase. 

Because that. That breaks Eliot more than anything else he could have said. 

Two hours later, Quentin leaves the penthouse again, the third time that week.

Day Twenty

“Julia, wait up.” The former goddess pauses but doesn’t turn around. “I won’t ask you where he’s been going but..I don’t..Jules I don’t know what he needs. I’m trying everything I can think of but he’s not getting better and you know him,” He pauses for a moment when he hears her breathe in shakily. “You know him better than anybody.” She turns finally, tears streaming down her face. 

Eliot looks into her eyes and sees a woman full of guilt who’s seen and been through too much at only twenty five. He wants to hug her, but he doesn’t. “No I don’t. I’m a shitty best friend,” She puts out a hand when he opens his mouth. “I am. I should have seen he was struggling but I didn’t. Once again, I was too caught up in my own bullshit to notice the people around me. So as for what he needs, I don’t know, El. I don’t know.” And with that, she turns and walks up the staircase. She pauses at the top, arms wrapped around herself. “I’m sorry.” She disappears from view before he can ask her what she’s apologizing for. 

Day Twenty Eight

On the morning of the twenty eighth day, Quentin walks over to him. “What’s something you used to do?”

Eliot blinks up at him, confused. “I-what?”

“Before you knew about magic or Brakebills or anything, what was something you liked to do?”

“I..flew kites.” 

Quentin nods, once. “Okay. Let’s go fly a kite.” Before Eliot can reply, he’s being dragged off the loveseat and out through the penthouse door. 

* * *

It takes about an hour for them to get the materials, and only seconds for Eliot to put it together with his magic. 

They walk to a nearby park, and Eliot sets it up. “Do..do you..” He trails off, staring at Quentin. 

Quentin moves a strand of hair out of his face and shakes his head. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Right, okay.” Eliot looks around and seeing that the park is mostly empty, he casts a quick wind spell and the kite lifts off the ground. “Here,” he hands the reel to him and moves behind him. “Just, don’t let the string get away from you.”

They stand in silence for a few minutes before Quentin breaks it. “I’ve been going to therapy. That’s where I go when I leave the penthouse. She’s a magician. Jules has talked to her a few times. She’s..it’s been really good for me. When..at first, when you guys brought me back, I was angry. I had moved on. I know that none of you knew that, and I don’t blame you for it, but I had moved on. And then I got your letter.”

Eliot stares at the back of Quentin’s head in shock. “You..but..”

“Yeah, I don’t know how I got it, but I did. And everything you said..about the regret and pain and fear. Something in me knew I needed to come back, because my life wasn’t over. And let’s face it, El. I killed myself. It wasn’t a heroic sacrifice, it was suicide. But..still, I had moved on. And I guess for a while I was angry that you made me want to come back, and then angry that all of you brought me back.” He turns his head to look at Eliot over his shoulder. “I’m not angry anymore. And what you said in that letter, I want all of that too, with you.” Eliot feels the hope bloom in his chest. “But not yet.” The hope deflates, but doesn’t disappear. Eliot begins to respond, but the sound of paper ripping distracts both of them. “Oh. Shit.”

When the kite falls to the ground in front of them, ripped, Eliot let’s out a small laugh and Quentin smiles. “Come on, Q.” He picks it up and tosses it in a trash can and gently grabs Quentin’s hand and it takes him a moment to realize that Quentin has let go and is no longer following him. 

For a moment, everything freezes because Quentin isn’t by his side.

He’s gone. And maybe he was never really back, maybe he-

Oh. 

Eliot stands completely still, as if watching a wild animal that he’s afraid to spook. 

Quentin’s eyes are scrunched together as he moves his fingers over the kite and slowly, it pieces back together. Even from a distance he can see that his hands are shaking. After breathing in deeply, he grabs the kite and walks over to Eliot. “Here,” He gently puts the kite into Eliot’s arms. “I fixed it for you.” 

He doesn’t dare blink, because he knows if he did, tears would fall from his eyes. “Yea, Q. You did.” 

He doesn’t blink, but the tears fall anyway. “Quentin-“

The shorter man shakes his head. “Not yet, Eliot. I’m not ready to hear it yet. I’m not ready to say it yet, either. There’s still too much hurt right now. And things that I need to deal with. Things you need to deal with too. But know that I feel it. I feel it with everything I have.” 

Eliot’s throat bobs as he swallows but he nods, accepting. “Of course, Q.” 

He turns and almost jumps out of his skin when he feels Quentin intertwine their fingers together. “But someday. Soon. If you can stick around for it.” He gives him the most minuscule smile, and for Eliot it’s like the sun is coming out. 

Someday soon. 

Okay, he can work with that. 

He reaches out to touch the younger man's cheek. “For you, Q, I’ve got all the time in the world.” 

And when Quentin is ready, he won’t be running away again. Not ever. Because he made a promise to not only Quentin, but to himself as well. 

And he’s so, so much braver. 

He can be patient, too. 

Quentin is worth waiting for. 

Quentin is worth _everything_. 


End file.
